


Stay at Home Dad

by pranxtorr



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, father!Cullen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pranxtorr/pseuds/pranxtorr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s hard being a working mom, sure, but what about being a stay at home dad?  Cullen x Inquisitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay at Home Dad

**Author's Note:**

> Is is too conceited of me to say that this is super cute? Because this is really cute.

“You’ll be fine, my love,” Idina said, tracing his jaw with her finger. Cullen pouted while he balanced their tiny daughter on his hip. Clara was squirming to get to her mother, and he was barely able to keep a grip on her.

“Do you have to go?” he asked her for the third time, earning a laugh from her.

“The Inquisition need its Inquisitor. We both know I’ve stayed too long,” she said gently. “We both know I would stay if I could.”

It was just a simple mission, she and a small group of her inner circle would be setting out for the Hinterlands to take care of some rebel mages who were causing a ruckus. It would only take two weeks, three at the most, but Cullen had never been left alone with Clara for so long. So much could go wrong.

Idina kissed them both. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, pressing his forehead against hers.

She waved one last time at Clara before joining Dorian, Cassandra, and Varric at the gate.

“Take care of the little demon!” her Tevinter companion shouted to the commander as they mounted their horses.

Cullen watched them leave, anxiety piling in his stomach, before Clara started wailing. He held her tight and whispered, “I know, love. But it’s just you and me for a few weeks.”

* * *

 

He woke with a groan at midnight, crying coming from the crib in the corner. “It’s your turn,” he mumbled to the other side of the bed, before remembering that it was empty. With a sigh, he peeled the blankets back and stumbled over to Clara’s bed.

Clara’s face was red and running with tears and snot, her eyes squeezed tight. Cullen scooped her up in his arms and began to bounce her. “What’s the matter, then?” he asked her quietly. “You can’t possibly be hungry, I fed you just before I put you down.” He hoisted the baby into the air and sniffed. “You’re still clean,” he reasoned.

Unsure what to do with the screaming bundle in his arms, he began to hum an old Chantry lullaby, hoping it might calm her. As the notes resonated within his chest, Clara stopped her sobbing and opened her eyes at the sweet song.

“Hello,” he said gently, locking brown eyes with brown eyes. He smiled as her sniffling decreased and her breathing calmed. “Just lonely, huh? Me too.”

He went back to humming until she was fast asleep.

* * *

 

Thank the Maker for Idina’s sling. She usually wore it when working so that she could be efficient and use both hands while caring for Clara and keeping an eye on her. It turns out, it worked just as well for Cullen.

He had his daughter secured against his chest, wearing an unusually small amount of armor for training so as to keep her comfortable. She squirmed against him as he yelled orders to the recruits.

“You’re too rigid, keep your limbs loose!”

Clara let out one sniffle before the floodgates opened. He groaned as she started wailing and tried to balance his attention on his wriggling baby and his troops.

“Commander?” a voice said behind him. Cullen turned to see Lieutenant Mills saluting him awkwardly with his hand across his chest.

“What is it, Mills?” he asked over Clara’s screams, pinching his nose.

“If you’d like, ser, I could take over while you, erm, take care of your issue,” the young man offered.

Cullen’s rigid face relaxed some and he let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” He quickly carried Clara off.

Once in his quarters, he struggled to find out the cause of Clara’s uncomfort. Not hungry, not tired, and not bored, either. Grasping for solutions, he took a whiff near her diaper and nearly gagged, finally locating the problem. He sighed.

* * *

 

Clara was an honored guest at the war table that afternoon. Cullen had received the summons from one of Leliana’s runners, who claimed that the Inquisitor’s advisors would be discussing news from their leader. He hadn’t really seen any other solution than to bring his daughter along.

At first she hadn’t disturbed them much; she was still groggy from her afternoon nap and was lulling in at out of consciousness in her spot on her father’s chest. Leliana informed Josephine and himself of the letter that Idina had sent, as well as word that the Hinterland scouts had brought. The mage problem was proving to be more difficult than was originally thought. His wife would be gone for a while yet.

They had begun discussing yet another conspiracy in the Orlesian Court when he became aware that the mass on his chest had begun moving, though thrashing around was probably a better description. Leliana and Josephine had stopped listening to his suggested strategy and were hiding giggles behind their hands.

Looking down, he saw that Clara was half hanging out of the sling, grasping desperately for one of the markers on the table. Cullen quickly stepped backwards, gently sliding her back into the sling. “No,” he told her soundly and she giggled back at him.

“Oh, you two are so adorable,” Leliana teased while Josie cooed at the sight.

“Don’t encourage her,” Cullen said, turning red. “Maker, can we get back to Orlais?”

* * *

 

He had a headache. He had a headache and Clara’s crying really wasn’t helping. Just five minutes, he thought, just leave me be for five minutes. Cullen had been watching over his daughter constantly, and Maker did he need a break. But she was crying again.

“Try this.”

Barely containing his yelp of surprise, Cullen jumped to his feet to see who was in the room. He let out a frustrated breath, before sitting back down. “Cole.”

“She’s hungry, try this,” the spirit said again, holding out a glass bottle. At the commander’s suspicious look, he explained, “It’s milk.”

“I can see that,” Cullen said, relieved all the same. He took the bottle and crossed the room to feed Clara. “Thank you, Cole,” he said gratefully after the shock had worn off.

“You’re tired,” Cole said. “You miss her and you aren’t sure if you can do this all on your own. But you can, you’ve already been doing it.”

“I… thank you, Cole,” Cullen repeated.

“She’s tired, now. You’ll both be able to get some sleep,” the spirit told him before leaving.

Well thank the Maker for that.

* * *

 

Cullen woke up to silence. Silence. Wary, he climbed out of his bed and crept towards the crib in the corner. He felt a wave of panic hit him when he found it empty.

He had grabbed his sword and slipped into his armor faster than he had ever done before and stormed into the throne room with a heated determination to find his daughter. It was empty, of course, the sun had yet to rise, but he couldn’t stop himself from calling out, “Clara?!” His voice echoed through the open room, bringing no answer.

The garden was empty, the courtyard was empty, the tavern was empty, dammit, where was she? On his way to search the stables, Cullen heard a loud crash in the kitchens. He stopped in his tracks and placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, and then he was there, throwing open the door, chest heaving and sword fully drawn.

Sera sat on the preparation table in the center, stuffing her face with tarts while a very enthralled Clara laid on the ground, watching her. Cullen wasted no time in gathering his daughter into his arms, dropping the sword on the ground.

“What are you doing up!” Sera demanded in an exasperated tone.

“What?!” he snarled, having enough sense to gather that the elf was behind his baby’s disappearance.

“Here I was, going to all this trouble to keep you asleep, too,” she said with a grin. “Cause Cole said you were tired, right? So I thought, why not take the smelly kid out to play? No baby in the room means no baby crying. And no baby crying means no rude wake up calls, right? Good plan, innit? Least I thought so.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Cullen asked, though he was calming down. Clara seemed none the worse for wear; in fact, she seemed quite pleased as she giggled in her father’s arms.

“You can believe whatever you want. I guess you think I stole your baby to sacrifice her for more arrows, or something. You’d be wrong though,” Sera said, shoving another tart in her mouth. Clara squirmed, and Cullen sat her back on the ground.

“Look at her, rolling around,” Sera laughed with affection. “Can’t even crawl yet, useless thing. How old is she anyways?”

“Six months,” he smiled proudly. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Alright, Commander Daddy, go back on up to your room. I’ve got this,” Sera urged him, and who was he to refuse?

* * *

 

His bed was comfortable, and he was getting used to the other half of it being cold again.

After his break from Clara, thanks to his new favorite elven archer, he had finally gotten a decent amount of sleep. Sera had returned his baby not long after he had woken, and he had handled the situation far better from that point on.

Both father and daughter were asleep in their beds after a long day of meetings and paperwork (Clara had been present for both, though Cullen felt he had worked a little harder than her), when one side of Cullen’s bed sagged. He stirred as a pair of bare arms slipped around his stomach, holding him close.

“Welcome back,” he mumbled, eyes still shut.

“I’m glad to be back,” Idina replied, tone hushed so as not to wake their child. She traced light circles on his belly with her fingertips, and he was almost back to sleep when she asked, “So how was it? Did Skyhold crumble without me? Are we at war with Orlais? Did Clara overthrow the Inquisition since the mighty Inquisitor wasn’t here to stop her?” Cullen laughed quietly. “Did you have much trouble, love?”

He turned around in her grip, a soft smile growing on his face and he finally opened his sleepy eyes. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle,” he told her, cupping her cheek before kissing her.

Clara let out a cry and Cullen sat up immediately, already pulling the covers back when Idina stopped him. “Let me get her,” she told him, “It is my turn, after all.”

Cullen laid back down, wearing a lopsided grin. As he fell asleep listening to the love of his life singing softly to the other love of his life, he thought, _perhaps it was nothing I couldn’t handle, but I’d rather face it with you._


End file.
